Conversation Long Overdue
by xSeshatx
Summary: {Oneshot} The Dixon brothers have some problems to work out between them before they're okay after Merle realizes that by leaving home he left his brother at the mercy of their father.
It didn't take long for the two of them to return to the prison. There were many things that Merle wanted to say but he knew better than to speak just yet. He could tell that Daryl wasn't in a good state of mind, and he wanted to help but he knew it was his own fault. He wasn't big on anything having to do with emotions, and he avoided it at all costs. By doing that he damaged the relationship he could have had between him and his brother, and there was nobody else to blame but himself and their father. Daryl was fidgeting with his crossbow and Merle watched as the shaking periodically got worse and then better, but he still never said anything. Then they got back to the prison, saved the sheriff, and had a lot of hell to deal with when they made it inside. He had yet another gun pointed at his head. Knowing he shouldn't stress Daryl out more than he already was, he kept all of his smartass comments to himself.

"Will you stop pointin' that thing at his head?!" Daryl snapped, smacking Glenn's arm down since he was the one with the gun out. "He's my _brother_. I'm not abandonin' him, and I'd like to stay here with the group." When Glenn went to raise the gun again he shoved him. "I said knock it off! Merle's stayin' and you're just gonna have to live with it!"

Merle almost smiled at his brother's loyalty towards him, but then he remembered how little he deserved it. No matter what Merle did or let happen to him he was still defending him and getting in front of a loaded gun to protect him. It almost made him sad to see. He was shaken out of his thoughts when he saw that black girl - Michonne, her name was - eyeing him carefully with her hand on the handle of her katana but not pulling it out of its sheath. She was judging him with her eyes which made him relax a bit. He hadn't done right to her by no means but she was rethinking her perception on him. Maybe he did something right after all. The same couldn't be said for Glenn, though. "I don't want him here," he said firmly, finger still on the trigger but the gun aimed at the floor since he couldn't raise it without risking Daryl's life or his own since Daryl had gotten to the point where he wasn't afraid to get physical. "I don't want him near Maggie, or Carol, or Beth, or Jud-"

"We've been through this before," Daryl said, his voice threatening and his eyes menacing, "my brother is not a rapist. He ain't no woman beater either." That was the truth, too. Daryl wouldn't be loyal to him if he was too much like their father. Neither of them ever considered hitting a woman or a child. They didn't want to be like the man who damaged the both of them. He was more than a little offended at the insinuation from the Asian. This man didn't know him and had no right to even think he'd lay a hand on a woman if he didn't have to.

Glenn didn't relent. "You haven't been around him in how long? You saw who he was with!" he shouted, and Merle saw his baby brother flinch slightly. He always flinched at yelling. How had he not noticed? How hadn't any of them noticed, either? "People change. Merle wasn't a great person before either. I'm sorry, Daryl, but he can't stay here. I don't care if he's your brother. He has to go."

Merle couldn't believe that the Asian was trying to put the idea that he would hurt a woman or child inside of his baby brother's head. He couldn't help but step in. "Daryl knows I won't ever do that crazy shit," he said, and they could recognize the seriousness in his voice that wasn't usually there. He was always speaking with some sort of joke or insult lacing his words, but he wasn't this time. It caused everybody except for Daryl to turn to look at him. He almost wanted to admit their history of abuse so Glenn would understand why he would never do that shit, but he decided against it. It wasn't their business. He didn't care if they knew it about him because they wouldn't pity him or look at him differently for it, but he knew it'd change their perception of Daryl. It was Daryl's business to tell. "Now you stop tryin' to convince him of that shit, ya hear? I'm stayin' an' you can't stop me, Chinaman, so quit tryin'."

He really hadn't meant to let the insult slip. It was too natural for him. He internally winced but didn't show any outward signs of regretting what he said. He heard Daryl sigh, sounding almost dejected. The events of the past couple of days were definitely wearing him down, and even he couldn't keep up on his angry demeanor. By the looks on everybody's faces they saw it too. They all ducked their heads down a little when Daryl turned around to look at his brother. "I told you," he said emotionlessly, "he's Korean."

Maybe it was because Daryl was defending him from the racist remark, or maybe it was because he, too, was getting too tired to keep up a fight, but Glenn slid his gun back into his waistband. "I don't trust him," he said, looking directly at Rick. Merle wasn't surprised; Rick was their leader after all. "I think you'll be making a mistake if you let him in." He turned back to Daryl and tried not to look concerned at the way the hunter stared at the ground with a tired look on his face. "Guess I don't have a say in this. You sure your brother wouldn't hurt any of the girls, or even Carl?"

"Positive," Daryl mumbled, still refusing to look up. "If he hurts any of 'em, I'd kill 'im myself. But he wouldn't. Merle's better than that."

Needless to say Merle was allowed to stay and after that meeting nobody saw Daryl again until after dinner. He came in with a few dead animals so everybody knew he had been hunting. Apparently Rick also knew, but again, Merle wasn't surprised. Daryl was loyal to his group and especially to Rick. Whatever they had been through while he was gone he could tell Daryl respected the cop. Merle knew it would have had to take a lot for him to respect the cop considering that he locked him, Daryl's brother, up on a roof. He didn't know the reasoning for the respect, but Merle decided he'd give the sheriff a chance. If he was okay by his brother then he was okay by him.

They had wanted to lock Merle in a cell but in the end opted out of it since it was Daryl's night to keep watch and Merle could stay up with him. Daryl looked like he wanted to say no but he simply nodded and led Merle to one of the watchtowers. "Looks like you got yourself a nice camp here, little brother," Merle said after sitting in silence for a short while. "Proud of ya. Ya did good."

He could feel his brother shaking even though they weren't near or facing each other, and then he heard him sigh. "Can you just not talk for once?" he said tiredly.

"Why not?" Merle challenged. "Ya know we gotta talk 'bout somethin'. No use puttin' it off, is there?" He wanted to talk to Daryl about the scars. He wanted to hear about what happened with their father while he was away. He wanted to know about the flinching, shaking, and everything else. He wanted another chance at being a brother.

"This conversation is already over."

"No, baby brother. We need to talk 'bout this."

"Why? What's there to talk about?" Daryl asked, his voice rising. Merle heard something slam so he turned around and saw that Daryl had kicked the wall and was now leaning against it with his eyes closed. "You know how bad dad was with you. I saw how bad he was. He was so much worse when you left. Do you know how many times he tried to kill me?! Do you know how many nights I spent hiding _in a goddamn tree_ so he wouldn't find me?! This ain't a conversation you ever wanted to have, and now I don't want to have it, either. Can't we just leave it alone?"

He ain't never heard Daryl speak in that tone of voice before, and it unnerved him slightly. His brother sounded so broken. All Merle had done was see the scars so the way Daryl was acting didn't make too much sense. Maybe it was just the memories that came with his scars being visible. Whatever the reason Merle still wasn't going to back down from this conversation. "Guess I haven't always been a great brother, huh?" he asked, lacing his voice with humor even if it wasn't funny.

"You haven't ever been," Daryl said, opening his eyes and glaring at him. "Ya don't deserve my loyalty. I don't even know why I want you here."

Merle tried to be unaffected by hearing those words, but it hurt. He deserved it, of course. There was no question about that. He knew he didn't do anything to earn Daryl's loyalty. He abandoned him too much in the past and was the reason he got hurt by their father. He'd hate him, too, if he was in Daryl's position. Sighing, Merle leaned against the wall opposite of Daryl. "I guess that's true," he said quietly, ignoring the slight surprise on his brother's face when he did. He wasn't one to ever admit his mistakes or acknowledge he wasn't perfect. "Never meant for either of us to turn out this way, baby brother. Never meant to become this huge asshole I am, and didn't mean for pa to get ahold of ya the way he did. Convinced myself he wouldn't touch ya."

"Why?" Daryl asked, his voice hard. He knew part of the answer; Merle would've killed their father if he stayed. What Daryl wanted to know was why Merle left without him.

Merle understood what Daryl was asking. "Why I left ya? I thought you was safe there. Ya wouldn't be safe where I was. I was with all the wrong sorts of people. Then I tried the military. I couldn't bring ya with me. Didn't think I'd have to."

"I tried tellin' people," Daryl said quietly, avoiding looking at Merle. "I told my teacher that dad beat me, and she told me to quit lyin'. I could get people in trouble over lies. I called the cops once. Dad made it sound like I was just confused. Apparently someone tried to rob us and dad started fightin' the guy but accidentally hit me once or twice since the guy was in my room. I was just too out of it and tired to realize my dad was actually tryin' to save me." Merle watched his brother bring his elbow back hard against the wall before standing up straight and walking to the edge to look outside. "Got a bad beatin' for that one."

Merle didn't know what to say. Not only did he abandon his brother but he just found out that other people ignored his pain, too. He tried to get it to stop to help himself but there wasn't much else he could do since he was just a kid. Hell, he had a good eight years on Daryl so when he left at sixteen Daryl was still just a little kid. He grew up alone thanks to him. "Gosh, little brother," Merle sighed, "I'm proud of ya for tryin' to stop him. Did ya ever fight him?"

He saw Daryl barely shake his head no. "I couldn't. I always froze," he admitted. "Never been scared of anythin' like I was scared of him."

"That's okay," Merle said, trying to comfort his brother at least a little bit. He always talked like fear didn't exist in real men, so whenever his brother admitted he was scared he'd smack him over the head and tell him to grow up. Because of that Merle realized that a lot of the problems Daryl had came from him completely without the help of their father. He made his brother feel like it wasn't okay to be scared. "We ain't the same person. I shouldn't have treated you like ya should've been just like me."

"Yeah, I know," Daryl said, sounding angry again and Merle could tell the glare returned to his face. "If I was in your position I never woulda abandoned my little brother. I ain't nothin' like you." Of course Merle knew that; the two brothers were always very different from each other. Merle was always more outgoing while Daryl preferred only his own company. The older brother never trusted anybody, but he sure did like surrounding himself with people. Daryl was content being by himself with a crossbow. He'd go days without speaking. It's happened plenty of times when he was around, so he could only imagine how quiet his brother was when he had nobody to talk to.

Merle swallowed hard. He had never felt that way before. He was never unsure of what to do or say. He didn't know how he was supposed to act in a situation like that. He never thought about the possibility that he'd have to have this conversation. "How often did he come after you?"

Daryl spun around to look at him with hurt, betrayal, and anger in his eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know," he spat, louder than he should have. "What, this kind of thing excite ya or somethin'? You get off on it like dad? Ya sick like him now? Ya wanna hold me down, stare at my back, and jerk yourself off like he did, too? You know what he did was bad! You know it must've been often! Why else would I be like this? I can't step in a cell because of him! I can't hug people without flinchin', and I sure as hell can't be touched! I nearly _killed_ Carol once when she accidentally snuck up on me! Is that what ya wanna hear, or do ya wanna hear details as to why?! I don't want to have this conversation. We're done here. Either you keep your damn mouth shut or I'm lockin' ya in your cell. If you even fight me 'bout it then you'll have to go. I'm the only reason you're able to be here so don't piss me off or you'll be gone. I've survived without ya before, plenty a times. I'll do it again."

There was no question that Daryl was serious. It was obvious on his face and the anger he laced his words with. Merle knew he shouldn't push it, but he couldn't stop himself. He had the chance to be a good brother and he was going to take the risk even if it ended in a fight between the two. "Let me make this right, little brother," he said, stepping towards Daryl slowly. "I wasn't there before. Let me be here now. Let me know how bad I made it for you. Do ya get it? _I_ caused this for you. I need to know _what_ exactly I caused."

He could have been imagining it but Merle was almost certain that Daryl's eyes softened a small bit. "You saw my back," he said, his voice pained. "What more do you want from me?" Daryl sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and Merle noted that it was getting a little long, but he didn't focus on that. He watched as the trembling increased to the point he was sure if one of his group came along they'd notice it. "It happened a lot. All the time. His drinkin' got worse when ya left."

Merle licked his dry lips. "Daryl-"

"No!" Daryl snapped, taking Merle by surprise and making him take a step back. "We ain't talkin' 'bout this! You had your chance to be a brother. Ya blew it. That's on you, not on me." He must have been seeing things because he could have sworn he saw a tear run down his little brother's cheek. "You let dad do all that shit to me without even givin' me a thought! I was alone for _years_ with 'im, an' you _were never there_! I'm givin' ya one more chance; shut up, or I'm lockin' ya in the cell."

All he could do was nod. He was in shock. His brother didn't even sound like that when he was yelling at him in the forest, so he knew Daryl was definitely in a dark place. He was just about to turn away and go sit down on the stairs when he heard Daryl take in a sharp breath. He looked up at his brother and saw him clutching the front of his shirt and pulling on his a little as if he was trying to cool himself off. He was breathing fast and his breaths sounded a little wheezy. Without thinking about it, Merle raced forwards and helped Daryl sit down. Acting on instinct, he pulled his brother's shirt off over his head since it seemed to be trapping him. He pushed him so he was leaning against the wall with his back straight. "Don't give me none of that," he said more roughly than he intended. "Take a deep breath. Don't go panickin' on me now, Darylena. In through your nose and out through ya mouth. C'mon, little brother."

When he made an attempt to move closer to him, Daryl's head snapped up and he pushed himself back as far as he could to get away from Merle as if he was scared of _him_. "Don't touch me!" he nearly yelped. He looked absolutely terrified.

Merle raised his only hand up to show his little brother that he wasn't a threat. "C'mon, baby brother, don't look at me like that. I ain't him. Ya know I won't hurt ya," he said quietly as he slowly reached towards him. He rested his hand on top of Daryl's head, smoothing down his hair the way he would when he was a small child. This would happen sometimes and Merle never understood why his brother would sometimes panic like this. He never figured out why his brother sometimes got like this, but it was making so much more sense. "He ain't here," he said. "He never will be. We're at the prison with your group-your _friends_."

If Merle was being honest with himself he was jealous of how close Daryl had gotten with those people. They had never been a sociable family. The only people Merle kept around himself were drug dealers and that sort of people. He couldn't remember one person that Daryl chose to keep around. He was even less trusting than Merle, and that was saying a lot. These people, though, had somehow earned his baby brother's trust, and they even somehow made it to a friend level. Not even in elementary school did Daryl have a friend.

Apparently, Daryl was thinking the same thing because he closed his eyes and mumbled, "I ain't never had friends. Nothin's changed."

"But now ya do," Merle said, making his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "These people here like you, and I know ya like 'em, too. They're yer friends. They'll keep ya safe. They won't let nothin' hurt ya, 'specially not dad. If he were alive an' came here right now, and if ya told 'em what he did, they'd kill him to _protect_ you."

Daryl shook his head slightly. "They need me," he whispered. "I'm a good shot, I'm our only hunter, an' I put myself on the line for 'em. They'd protect me only so I can keep them alive." Merle was shocked by the way Daryl spoke. He knew this wasn't a case of his brother being emotional or anything like that; he had already thought about this and he truly believed what he was saying. "They don't keep me around because they like _me_. If I meant _anything_ to them then they wouldn't have let me walk away with you and would've let you come without us needin' to save Rick. Again."

Merle had already considered what Daryl had said before he even said it, but he couldn't completely believe it. It was a possibility to Merle that these people were using his baby brother, and he was trying to convince himself that was true because he didn't want his brother being involved with other people because people only hurt you. But he wasn't going to take his brother away from the people he chose to be around. He knew there was something different about them than the people they were around growing up. "I dunno, baby brother. I think they really care 'bout ya," he said, causing Daryl to open his eyes to meet his. "They look at ya differently than I ever saw anyone look at ya. 'sides, you're more than a guy who can hunt an' protect. They _trust_ you. These folk ain't the type to give just anyone their trust, do ya think?"

It took a few moments for Merle to win the staring contest. When Daryl looked away his shaking got worse, and Merle didn't know what he said. He knew he must've said something wrong if he made his brother react worse than he already was acting. He wasn't cut out for the whole comforting people thing, but he honestly didn't think he was doing so badly. He was about to try again when Daryl's strained voice beat him to talking. "I guess you're right..."

Now Merle was definitely confused. "Then why are ya still shakin' like that?" he asked, moving his hand from Daryl's head to his shoulder.

"Dad," he said simply before resting his head on the wall behind him with his eyes closed. "He ain't here but he's still fuckin' up my life. I hardly ever sleep around anyone here 'cause I have nightmares an' don't want 'em knowin' that cause then I'm weak an' unreliable to 'em, and I'm just a liability if I ain't sleepin' cause then I ain't at my best cause I'm so _damn_ tired." He took a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "He's still hauntin' me, Merle."

The way Daryl said his name made his heart break, and he didn't think that was possible. Daryl sounded so lost and childlike again. "I'm here now," he said, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "I know now, an' I'm here. I'll protect ya, just like when we was kids. Dad can't touch ya no more." Moving slowly, he put his arm around Daryl's shoulders completely and pulled him against his chest. "I'm here, and your group is here, and dad is long dead. You'll be okay." The motion was hesitant and unsure, but Merle felt Daryl's arms wrap around his shoulders and he pulled himself closer. His forehead rested on Merle's chest, and his hands gripped the back of his shirt. After a quiet moment Merle could hear Daryl's almost inaudible sobs. "It's okay, baby brother. I got ya."

For a while neither of them said anything. Merle could tell Daryl was fighting hard with himself to stop the sobs and eventually he started winning that battle. Even after he stopped his crying, though, Daryl didn't make any effort to move away from his brother and Merle didn't try to make him. They sat together like that in silence while they both tried to process what happened. Daryl was trying to get over his embarrassment of acting like that in front of his brother and trying to convince himself that Merle wouldn't react how he normally did with the insults. Merle, on the other hand, was trying to get over the fact that their father beat his baby brother and damaged him as bad as he did. His poor little brother was _terrified_ of their old man with good reason, but it angered him all the same.

Eventually the moment had to end and it was Daryl who ended it by pulling away and reaching for his crossbow. "Supposed to be keepin' watch," he mumbled, his eyes avoiding Merle's. "Ya can sleep if ya want. Probably gonna be a long night." Merle took the hint. He got his brother to talk a little bit, and he was able to comfort him during a bad moment, and that was all he was going to get for the night. That was okay with Merle; he pushed his brother too much as it was so he knew he needed a break. Hell, the older Dixon needed a break from what he heard, too. When he looked at Daryl's face he didn't see any anger so he figured his brother wasn't mad at him. The longer he stared at Daryl the more emotions he saw. One that stood out was the almost relaxed look he had, and when Merle was finally able to meet Daryl's eyes he didn't see the normal betrayed look. His brother was looking at him like he saw him looking at Rick; he was looking at him with trust. Whatever Merle did he must've done it right. So it was okay to him that Daryl didn't want to talk about their dad anymore. He'd come to him if he ever needed to.

Something else Merle saw was his brother's need to be alone, so his suggestion to sleep was more for Daryl's good than his own. "Alright, little brother. Wake me if trouble stirs," he said and then smirked as he tried to return to his normal behavior. Daryl wouldn't want anything too major to change between them so Merle wasn't about to treat his baby brother like he was a wounded animal. "Ya know I like trouble."

Daryl snorted. "I've noticed."


End file.
